


Koi Suru (Rivamika Week 2015)

by alienheartattack (Sanneke)



Series: Roommates AU [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Grey-A, Oral Sex, Tea, this is a weird selection of tags but I swear they all fit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4354565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanneke/pseuds/alienheartattack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi gets distracted by Mikasa and suffers some unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Koi Suru (Rivamika Week 2015)

**Author's Note:**

> Koi suru - to be in love with someone.

He rarely sleeps, and that is both a good thing and a bad thing. Good in that Mikasa can expect Levi to be awake when she returns home from work, eyes heavy-lidded after hours of hauling trays and burning her hands on plates, bad in that Levi is still awake two hours later, long after Mikasa starts to doze next to him in his bed. They have not been together long enough for her to come up with a shorthand for, “Stop poking me with your erection when I’m trying to sleep,” but Levi is starting to understand that not everyone is able to survive on a handful of cat naps and endless tense energy. **  
**

Saturday morning is Mikasa’s favorite time to spend with him, in the early morning hours before the city comes alive. She blinks her eyes open to find Levi lying there with her, his eyes closed but not asleep, the blue-toned light making his white sheets glow. In the morning, this close, she can see the delicate spiderwebs of capillaries beneath his pale skin, the dark shadows where stubble threatens to grow, the strangely delicate shell of his ear.

“Quit looking at me,” Levi mutters, his eyes still closed.

“I like looking at you,” she replies, twirling a strand of his hair around one finger.

He snorts. “Weirdo.”

“You like this weirdo.” Mikasa leans over and presses her lips to Levi’s cheek, closing her eyes and smiling as she feels his warm skin beneath her mouth.

“I do,” he admits. He reaches out and puts one arm around her so she can snuggle up to him. She drapes one leg across his, traces her fingers over the smooth skin of his chest. He fidgets beneath her touch, suddenly edgy, his restive state quickly fading. “I need a drink.”

His morning cup of tea has, over the years, transformed from a small pick-me-up in the morning to almost a ritual, a silent meditative state as he pours the water, fills his favorite blue kettle with just enough for two cups of tea (at first both for him; now he makes one for himself and one for Mikasa if she’s up), turns on the right front burner on the stove to the perfect temperature, fills two steel mesh tea infusers with loose leaves of Darjeeling oolong.

When he is finished he goes back into his bedroom to find Mikasa sitting up in his bed, a feline smile curving over her lips. She pats the mattress next to her and Levi takes a seat there, barely settled in before she wraps one arm around his shoulders and hauls him over to her so she can kiss him, roving one hand down the segmented muscles of his chest and stomach before zeroing in on his rapidly hardening cock.

“Mikasa!” Levi gasps, tearing his lips away from hers for a moment as she gently traces one finger over his shaft.

“Should I stop?” she asks innocently, knowing what his answer will be.

“I hate when you play coy,” he says with a smile, “because I know you’re anything but.”

“It’s fun to pretend,” she replies. “Lie down.” He does, attempting to pull her atop him, but she eludes his grip and slides away from him, stroking one hand past his stomach down to his inner thigh, adjusting herself so she is on her knees between his legs. Mikasa leans forward and presses her lips to the lowest part of his stomach, just before his smooth, pale skin gives way to dark curls.

And then when she takes him in her mouth, and the rest of the world may as well not exist.

It is a curious thing, her attention to him. A month earlier, when he was still dancing around his twin attractions to her and Mikawesome, since revealed to be one and the same to his immense relief, the thought of her doing  _this_  still seems unreal. His mind still cannot form the words, finds them distasteful, even as he watches and has watched Mikasa wrap her mouth around his cock, has coaxed her on, has felt her swallowing his come as he pulses between her lips. He should find it disgusting, usually does when she isn’t atop him, working him with her hands and her mouth, but in this moment his cleanliness has long since been forgotten.

Levi does not have time to muse further on the strange dichotomy of his mind; overwhelmed by sensation, he rockets back into the moment when Mikasa starts a steady rhythm, one hand wrapped around his shaft, her mouth sucking at his head, her cheeks hollowing as she applies pressure.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.” He can feel her low chuckle, her throat vibrating around him. She slows down then, raising her head up until her lips rest against the tip of his cock, wet with saliva and pre-come. She opens her mouth once more and takes him in, slicking him even further, smearing glistening wetness over and around her lips. Starting slow and hard, she decreases her pressure and increases her speed, working him in a spirited rhythm until his hips buck beneath her.

“I’m gonna come,” Levi moans, his voice loud and throaty. Mikasa takes him deeper, makes him cry out in surprise and unexpected pleasure as he feels his orgasm seize him, pulse through him over and over. His back briefly arches off the bed in his throes, then settles back against the mattress as they slow and fade, his gasps subsiding to tired, contented groans and soft breaths.

“Feeling good?” Mikasa asks, resettling herself next to him. She wipes her spit-slicked mouth on the back of her hand.

He croaks, “I think you’ve drained me dry.”

She grimaces then shushes him, touching her fingers to his kiss-swollen lips. “You’re too cute to talk like such an asshole.”

“I told you,” he reminds her. He lets out a huge yawn, then twists his body so he can pull his comforter out from under him. He burrows beneath it, pulling up the covers to his neck. “I’ll get up in a minute.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes at him, watching him as his eyes close, then ducks under the covers. Levi throws one arm over her, already breathing deeply.

Mikasa likes to let Levi sleep when he finally stays down. He is always so restless that it is a relief to see the ever-present wrinkle between his brows, hewn from three decades of frowns, finally softened and smoothed out. His mouth falls open a little, his lips unselfconsciously parted. She presses a kiss to his jaw, prickly with stubble, and rests her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed.

Levi’s eyes snap open, minutes or hours later, aroused by something that smells like smoke. “Something’s on fire or I’m having a stroke,” he says, bolting upright in bed, tossing Mikasa off of his shoulder. He sniffs the air. “I smell something burning.”

“You’re having a stroke,” Mikasa grouses, her eyes still closed, readjusting her head on the pillow. Levi frowns at her and sniffs the air, then gets up and retrieves a clean pair of boxers from his dresser. He puts them on as he rushes into the living room, hopping and stumbling on his way. His eye catches a flicker from the kitchen and he runs in, realizing that he has left the burner on for far too long and, on top of it, sits his blue ceramic kettle, its bottom covered in black scorch marks.

“My fucking kettle!” he wails, audible throughout the apartment. “Goddammit!”

A few moments later Mikasa pads barefoot into the kitchen wearing her underwear, turquoise printed with gray cartoon rabbits, and one of Levi’s white t-shirts. ”It’s just a kettle,” she says reassuringly as she approaches him. “You can get another one.”

“This is not ‘just a kettle,’” Levi says, his voice anguished and deadly serious. He picks it up and holds it up by the handle, showing it to Mikasa. “This is a hundred-dollar Le Creuset stainless steel and enamel tea kettle. It is the best tea kettle.”

She looks at him in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? Listen to yourself.”

He lets out a forceful exhalation, placing the ruined kettle back gingerly on the burner. “This is the first nice thing I ever bought myself,” he says, his voice small and sad.

Mikasa lets out a soft, “Oh,” then gathers him in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll just get a new one,” he says dejectedly.

“Here, I have my electric kettle. I’ll boil some water for you in that.”

Levi sulks. “It’s not the same, but thank you.”

The next day Levi wakes up to make himself his morning cup of tea and frowns when he sees the kettle still on the stove, its scorched bottom a reminder of the events of the day before. He sighs, then picks the kettle up by its handle and unceremoniously drops it into the trash can. Turning back to the counter, he spies something new, something that looks like a drip coffee machine, decorated with a small red adhesive bow. Levi looks closer, inspects it (and the manual left conveniently on the counter) to find that it is a water heater, warmer, and dispenser, that he can heat his water to his desired temperature by degree, that the machine holds enough water for him to drink tea all day.

Mikasa comes out of her bedroom as he sits and drinks his second cup of Darjeeling oolong. She gives him a knowing nod and smile on her way to the bathroom, then after she comes out, comes up behind him and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Do you like it?” she asks him, then takes the seat next to him.

“I do,” he replies with a smile. “I really do.”


End file.
